PhillipsSara

(set: $gender to "f")\ Your name is $name and people will refer to you using she/her pronouns. [[Continue|Start]] [[Go back|Name]]

(set: $gender to "m")\ Your name is $name and people will refer to you using he/him pronouns. [[Continue|Start]] [[Go back|Name]]

(set: $gender to "nb")\ Your name is $name and people will refer to you using they/them pronouns. [[Continue|Start]] [[Go back|Name]]

(set: $name to (prompt: "Please enter your name (or click OK to proceed with a premade character):",""))\ (if: $name is "")[(set: $name to "Raelyth")(goto: "She/her")]\ Select your pronouns: [[She/her]] [[He/him]] [[They/them]]

(set: $suspicion to 0)\ The clattering sounds of metal on metal builds into a cacophonus melody as a dozen pairs of royal knight trainees spar with one another. You find yourself amongst them, as you have been every day for the last six months, sword in hand and shield strapped to opposite arm. Out of the corner of your eye, you spot Weynet, your primary instructor, watching your movement. He often mentions that you have some of the best potential of any trainee he's seen, and you've taken to his lessons like a fish to water. As much pride as that brings you, you can't dwell on the thought long. Your current opponent, a scrappy fellow named Dreynor, lets out a shout as he lifts his blade high in preparation to strike. [[Raise shield.]] [[Swing sword.]]

You bring your shield up with plenty of time to spare, bracing yourself for the impact of Dreynor's downward swing. The force behind the blow sends woodchips splintering off the front of your shield, though it holds strong. Dreynor stumbles backwards, having put a little too much strength into the single strike, just as a loud clap interrupts the session. "Attention, you lot!" [[Stop sparring.]] [[Finish him off.]]

As Dreynor heaves his sword above his head, you realize he's left himself completely vulnerable to a quick attack. Before he can swing down, you lunge at him, blade at the ready. The dulled edge of your training sword hits him square in the chest. Were it a real battle, you could've sliced him right open or stabbed him straight through the torso. Thankfully (for his sake), the strike should only leave a bruise--though a nasty one, at that, as he staggers backwards with a pained gasp. Before you can go in for the final blow, a loud clap resonates through the room from behind you. "Attention, you lot!" [[Stop sparring.]] [[Finish him off.]]

(set: $suspicion to it+1)\ "Let me try." Ilikoth's gaze flicks to you, appraising. "Very well," he says, and twirls the blade to offer it to you hilt-first. "Have at it." You step forward, eyeing the blade cautiously. With a deep breath, you steel yourself and reach for the sword. The instant your hand connects with the hilt, a sharp jolt runs up your arm. At first, you think it might just be the nature of magical items, so you push on, taking the sword from Ilikoth. Then pain erupts in your hand. You drop the sword, chest seizing in a gasp, and you can't control your fingers as they curl inwards and convulse from the sudden burning sensation. It almost feels like the blood in your veins surges, abruptly running hot and cold all at once. "$name!" You can barely register Weynet's voice as he comes up next to you, the sound distorted and distant through the haze of your pain. Your hand throbs in time with your rapidly elevating heartrate, and it's all you can do to grab onto it with your other hand, as if you could smother the feeling away. Even your iron grip can't disguise the way your sword hand trembles. Weynet's hands fall on your shoulders. "$name, what's wrong?" It feels like your veins could burst open at any moment. Everyone's eyes are on you and you can hardly breathe. [[Make up an excuse to leave the room.]]

(set: $wait to true)\ Hardly a moment goes by before a hand shoots up--belonging to Kinara, a girl close to the front of the group. Ilikoth offers her a nod and twirls the enchanted blade in his hand. He presents it to Kinara hilt-first. She walks up to him and reaches for the sword. Her arm tenses as the weight of it passes from Ilikoth to her, and she gives it an experimental slice through the air. "Well?" Ilikoth prompts. "How does it feel?" Kinara frowns thoughtfully. "Light," she responds, and gives the sword another swing. "But not weak or cheap. Just... faster." Ilikoth tips his head towards a training dummy a few feet away from the table. "Give it a real swing." Kinara approaches the training dummy and arcs the sword in a basic attack towards its neck. Where a standard sword may have gotten lodged part of the way through the dummy's neck, the enchanted blade slices clean through it. The head falls to the ground with a soft thump. Your eyes trace the blade with a new, deep sense of hunger and curiosity. Your fellow trainees react in much the same way--but it's you Ilikoth's eyes fall to next as Kinara returns the blade to him. "$name. Give it a try." [[Step forward.]]

"Sorry, my hand cramped," you say, wincing and gritting your teeth to sell it. You don't need to put much work in, though, for the burning sensation in your hand hasn't lessened. In fact, it only seems to be getting worse. "I'm just going to step outside for a minute. I'll be quick, don't worry." Without waiting for a response, you spin on your heel and shoulder your way through the other knight trainees. Nobody makes a move to stop you, and the soft chatter of the lesson picks back up just as you slide out into the dimly lit hallway. You duck into a supply closet. The small flame of a sconce on the wall shudders as you push the door shut behind you. Hand throbbing, you rub your wrist and press your head against the door with your eyes closed tight. As you scratch and rub at your hand, your fingers start to catch on small bumps. Alarmed, you step back, eyes snapping open and dropping to your shaking hand. A small patch of ruby red scales seems to be emerging through your skin, concentrated around the back of the hand and wrist you used to wield the enchanted sword. Weynet's voice breaks through your shock: "Are you alright, $name? I've never seen someone have that kind of reaction to an enchantment." Your heart skips a beat as you turn towards the door in a panic. Weynet's shadow peers through the crack at the bottom, but he shows no sign of barging in. [[Tell the truth.]] [[Lie.]]

(set: $escape to true)\ "There are... I have scales on my hand." A deafening silence greets your words. You swallow hard enough that you're sure Weynet has to hear. After a few more agonizing seconds of stunned quiet, he clears his throat. "Um. Right. May I come in?" You hesitate for a moment more before opening the door. Weynet steps inside and immediately reaches for your hand. He holds it close to his face and, with his other hand, skims his fingers over the scales. "Do you know what these are?" he asks. You don't like the fear in his voice. "Do you know what it means if you have them?" [["They look like dragon scales."]] [["What does it mean?"]]

(set: $suspicion to it+1)\ "I just got really dizzy all of a sudden." You hate to lie to him. Weynet has only ever been helpful and kind in the past. But this... This is different. There are dragon scales on your arm--and you've read the history books. Humans with draconic lineage were hunted to near extinction for their blood. It's as Ilikoth said. Dragon blood is laced with some of the most potent magic out there. As much as you trust Weynet, you don't want to risk him deciding to use you to further the enchanted royal armory. For a moment after you speak, Weynet stays quiet. Then he says, "I thought your hand was cramping." "Yes, it was." A bead of sweat trickles down your temple. "Really bad. The pain made me lightheaded. I'll be alright." "Maybe you should head home early for today. If you've sprained your wrist, you'll need to rest it before your assessment at the end of the week." The vice grip fear has around your heart loosens somewhat. "Right. I'll do that." [[Slip out past Weynet.]] [[Wait until Weynet leaves first.]]

You lower your weapon and shield and turn to face the source of the shout. At the head of the room stands a man you've only seen once or twice before--another instructor, but one far less involved than Weynet. He stands next to a table, upon which sits a long, thin silver case. "Good afternoon," he says. "My name is Ilikoth and I control every aspect of the royal guard's armory. And that, of course, includes..." Ilikoth opens the case and lifts out a pale longsword. Its blade almost seems to glow. "...enchanted items." A murmur of excitement runs through the group of trainees. You, as well, straighten up with renewed interest. Magic items were traditionally reserved for the best of the best. Ilikoth swings the sword through the air, the slice sending a tight "woosh" sound through the air. "As you conclude your training, it is only fair that we offer you a taste of what could await you as royal knights," Ilikoth continues. "Does anyone know what the royal guard uses to enchant their equipment?" Weynet, standing beside you, gives you an encouraging nudge with his elbow. [["Dragon blood."]] [["Fairy dust."]]

Ignoring the voice, you spring forward for a final attack. To take advantage of Dreynor's lost balance, you bash your shoulder into his chest. He falls backwards and lands flat on the floor with a loud thump. "$name." You glance over your shoulder to find a relatively unfamiliar face glaring at you. It belongs to another instructor, you know that much--but he's only stopped by once or twice before. Weynet claps a hand on the other man's shoulder. "Give (if: $gender is "f")[her](else-if: $gender is "m")[him](else-if: $gender is "nb")[them] a break, Ilikoth. (if: $gender is "f")[She](else-if: $gender is "m")[He](else-if: $gender is "nb")[They] had a great opening." Ilikoth shrugs Weynet's hand off his shoulder. "(if: $gender is "f")[She'll](else-if: $gender is "m")[He'll](else-if: $gender is "nb")[They'll] need to learn obedience and discipline if (if: $gender is "f")[she hopes](else-if: $gender is "m")[he hopes](else-if: $gender is "nb")[they hope] to become a royal knight. Six months in your care and you can't even manage that much?" In a sharp motion, Ilikoth turns and stalks to a table at the front of the room, where a long, thin silver case sits. Weynet scoffs and rolls his eyes, then shoots you a lopsided grin. "Don't mind him. That was a nice rush. Sill, better go and listen to what he has to say now. I think you'll be excited." [[Nod in acknowledgement.]]

"Good afternoon," he says. "As you may have put together, my name is Ilikoth. I control every aspect of the royal guard's armory, and that, of course, includes..." Ilikoth opens the case and lifts out a pale longsword. Its blade almost seems to glow. "...enchanted items." A murmur of excitement runs through the group of trainees. You, as well, straighten up with renewed interest. Magic items were traditionally reserved for the best of the best. Ilikoth swings the sword through the air, the slice sending a tight "woosh" sound through the air. "As you conclude your training, it is only fair that we offer you a taste of what could await you as royal knights. Would anyone care to hazard a guess as to what the royal guard uses to enchant their equipment?" Ilikoth sweeps his gaze over the group of trainees before coming to a stop on you. "$name, since you're so eager to show off, perhaps you could enlighten us." [["Dragon blood."]] [["Fairy dust."]]

Ilikoth blinks and offers you a nod. "Yes, actually, that's correct. At least your knowledge of the arcane seems to be on track." He gives the sword another swing, and his lips twitch upwards as all of the trainees' eyes follow its arc. "Dragon blood is among the most potent of magical sources," he continues. "It's infused with the best of the royal guard's weapons and armor. And yes, that means it could very well be infused with your weapons and armor in the future. For now, though, you'll have to settle for trying it out just this once. Any takers?" He lifts and lowers the sword, as if testing its weight, and raises an eyebrow as he looks through the small crowd. [[Volunteer.]] [[Wait.]]

"Not a terrible guess," Ilikoth responds, "but not quite correct. Fairy dust is more commonly used in potions and non-combative equipment." The hint of a smirk tugs at his mouth. "Well, I suppose lesser guards may use it for their weapons and armor. The royal guard, however, uses only the most potent form of magic. Our weapons and armor are enchanted with dragon blood." He pauses, then swings the sword again. "So. With that in mind, you'll now get to see for yourself what magic feels like. Who'd like to try first?" [[Volunteer.]] [[Wait.]]

(set: $suspicion to it+1)\ After seeing Kinara wield the sword so easily, you reach out without hesitation. The instant your hand connects with the hilt, however, a sharp jolt runs up your arm. At first, you think it might just be the nature of magical items, so you push on, taking the sword from Ilikoth. Then pain erupts in your hand. You drop the sword, chest seizing in a gasp, and you can't control your fingers as they curl inwards and convulse from the sudden burning sensation. It almost feels like the blood in your veins surges, abruptly running hot and cold all at once. "$name!" You can barely register Weynet's voice as he comes up next to you, the sound distorted and distant through the haze of your pain. Your hand throbs in time with your rapidly elevating heartrate, and it's all you can do to grab onto it with your other hand, as if you could smother the feeling away. Even your iron grip can't disguise the way your sword hand trembles. Weynet's hands fall on your shoulders. "$name, what's wrong?" It feels like your veins could burst open at any moment. Everyone's eyes are on you and you can hardly breathe. [[Make up an excuse to leave the room.]]

(set: $suspicion to it+1)\ In a single, fluid motion, you manage to swing the door open and immediately clamp your hand over your scaled wrist. You slip out before the door can fall shut again, refusing to meet Weynet's eye as you brush past him. A hand falls on your shoulder. "Woah, hey, slow down." Weynet tries to get you to look at him. "Rest well, alright? Feel better." His eyes fall to your hand, though they don't stay there long before flicking back up to your face. You give him a single, tight nod before turning on your heel and heading down the hall. Though time seems to be moving slower than usually, you eventually near the castle gate, trying to keep your pace steady despite the ever-present throbbing of your wrist. As you make your way down the front walkway and approach the main gate, the guard currently posted there notices you and offers a friendly wave. "I've seen you with the knight recruits before," they say. "Where are you off to so early?" [[Say you aren't feeling well.]] [[Duck your head and move past without responding.]]

Weynet lingers outside the door for a few more moments, but when it becomes clear you have no intention of leaving with him standing there, he gives the door a final, light tap. "Right then. Feel better soon, $name." His shadow disappears from under the door, and you wait until you can no longer hear his footsteps before exiting the closet. A quick glance up and down the hallway doesn't reveal anyone, so you take the time you have alone to rush towards the exit without worrying about looking like you're in a rush. It takes most of your focus to keep your pace steady despite the ever-present throbbing of your wrist. As you make your way down the front walkway and approach the main gate, the guard currently posted there notices you and offers a friendly wave. "I've seen you with the knight recruits before," they say. "Where are you off to so early?" [[Say you aren't feeling well.]] [[Duck your head and move past without responding.]]

(font:"Modern Antiqua")[(text-color:'#ad2626')[(text-style: "outline")[#SCALES OF DESCENT]]] (text-color:'#bf6f56')[//^^WRITTEN BY SARA PHILLIPS^^//] [[Begin.|Name]]

You swallow hard and add, "I've heard the stories about people with dragon scales. I know what happened to them. They aren't supposed to exist anymore--all the bloodlines were supposed to have been wiped out." Weynet rubs the back of his neck, mouth set in a grim line. "I've read the books too, $name, but... Sometimes they're wrong. There's no other explanation. Normal humans don't grow scales." Normal humans... You never thought you'd be on the other side of a phrase like that. Weynet senses your discomfort and shifts his weight, evidently just as uncertain. "I'm not as well-versed in this stuff as Ilikoth, but I don't think getting him involed is a good idea. Those same history books were written by guys like him. He'd definitely want that kind of power for himself." [["What about you?"]]

Weynet's gaze flicks from your hand to your face and back again. His mouth opens and shuts, before he runs a hand through his hair and lets out a hollow, disbelieving chuckle. "These, uh... These look like dragon scales, $name. Like the draconic-blooded had." You look down at your hand, turning it over and watching the red scales glimmer even in the dim light. It was hard to deny Weynet's claim, but nobody with draconic blood had been seen for generations. Most people thought they'd been hunted to extinction for their blood. [["What should I do?"]] [["Are you going to turn me in?"]]

(set: $guard to true)\ "I'm not feeling my best," you tell the guard, grabbing your scaled wrist with your opposite hand. "Weynet is sending me home for the day." The guard's face scrunches up with sympathy. "That's too bad. Take it easy." You offer them a nod and an attempt at a smile, then continue onwards. Despite the amicable exchange, anxiety pools in the bottom of your stomach--did they see? Will they call you back? Send someone after you? It's not until you reach the first shop, signalling your arrival in the heart of the city, that you accept that the guard isn't going to take action. (if: $escape is true)[[[Go home.|Escape Start]]](else:)[[[Go home.|Training Start]]]

(set: $suspicion to it+1)\ Hunching your shoulders, you grab your scaled wrist with your opposite hand and pass by the guard without saying a word. They make no move to stop you, but you can't help the anxiety that pools in the bottom of your stomach. It's not until you reach the first shop, signalling your arrival in the heart of the city, that you accept that the guard isn't going to call you back. (if: $escape is true)[[[Go home.|Escape Start]]](else:)[[[Go home.|Training Start]]]

Weynet blows out a puff of air. "Well, you can't stay here, that's for sure. Not the castle, probably not even the city... You should leave. Find somewhere safe and secluded where you can ride this out." He hesitates. "I don't know how long that'll take or what'll happen to you, but... If things calm down, come back and find me. We'll figure it out from there." All you can do is nod along and try to fight off the shock threatening to grip your heart. You have to leave your home? Weynet takes a deep breath. "Alright. Good luck." He holds your gaze for a moment longer before clapping you on the shoulder and slipping out the door. [[Follow him out.]] [[Wait a few minutes before leaving.]]

Weynet raises his eyebrows. "Turn you in? You're shaping up to be one of the best knights this guard has seen in a decade. That's worth a lot more than some blood to enchant a few more swords." Some of the tension slides off your shoulders. Maybe letting him in wasn't a terrible idea. Weynet crosses his arms and leans against the door. "Unfortunately, I'm probably alone in thinking that way. You shouldn't stay here. Let me buy you some time, then leave. The castle, the city--all of it. Find somewhere safe and secluded where you can ride this out." He hesitates. "I don't know how long that'll take or what'll happen to you, but... If things calm down, come back and find me. We'll figure it out from there." All you can do is nod along and try to fight off the shock threatening to grip your heart. You have to leave your home? Weynet takes a deep breath. "Alright. Good luck." He holds your gaze for a moment longer before clapping you on the shoulder and slipping out the door. [[Follow him out.]] [[Wait a few minutes before leaving.]]

Weynet raises his eyebrows. "Me? Nah, I don't really mess with all that arcane stuff. I trust my own strength." Some of the tension slides off your shoulders. Maybe letting him in wasn't a terrible idea. Weynet crosses his arms and leans against the door. "Most people aren't like that, though. Especially not here." He gnaws at his lip, deep in thought. "Based on the past, the scales will only keep spreading, and even if you keep those covered up, it'll be a dead giveaway if any real magic manifests." [["What should I do?"]]

(set: $suspicion to it+1)\ You catch the door before it closes all the way and follow Weynet into the hall. He looks over his shoulder at you and draws his eyebrows together. "You should have--" "How's your star pupil holding up, Weynet?" You both freeze and glance towards the source of the voice--Ilikoth. He stands a few feet away, hands clasped behind his back. "(if: $gender is "f")[She's](else-if: $gender is "m")[He's](else-if: $gender is "nb")[They're] fine," Weynet says. He takes a small step in front of you, blocking your arm from Ilikoth's line-of-sight. "Just a bad muscle cramp." "I've never seen that kind of reaction to an enchantment before," Ilikoth continues, ignoring Weynet in favor of staring you down. "I'm a bit curious." Weynet takes another step, completely shielding you from Ilikoth. "Like I said, muscle cramp. I doubt it had anything to do with your enchantment. I'm sending (if: $gender is "f")[her](else-if: $gender is "m")[him](else-if: $gender is "nb")[them] home for the day to recover." "Send (if: $gender is "f")[her](else-if: $gender is "m")[him](else-if: $gender is "nb")[them] home? My, what a bad muscle cramp, indeed." Ilikoth brushes past Weynet and lifts a hand in a stiff farewell as he continues down the hall. "Should it continue to bother you, $name, do come and find me. I'd be more than happy to properly ensure the enchantment had no effect." As Ilikoth vanishes around a corner, Weynet nudges you in the opposite direction. "See? He's already on guard. Get out of here, quickly." [[Leave the castle.]]

The door shuts behind Weynet with a soft thump. He heads down the hall, as evidenced by his footsteps gradually growing quieter. You linger in the closet until they fade away entirely, rubbing your wrist in the meantime. After a few minutes pass, you decide that if Weynet was going to buy you any time, he'd have done so by now. It's time to go. You take a deep breath and exit the room, turning your arm (a bit awkwardly) so the scales on the back of your hand are facing inward. You hurry to the castle gate and try to keep your pace steady despite the ever-present throbbing of your wrist. As you make your way down the front walkway and approach the main gate, the guard currently posted there notices you and offers a friendly wave. "I've seen you with the knight recruits before," they say. "Where are you off to so early?" [[Say you aren't feeling well.]] [[Duck your head and move past without responding.]]

(set: $food to false) (set: $weapon to false) (set: $new to false)\ Your mind races as the castle shrinks behind you. Heading into the wilds surrounding the city without any supplies is as good as a death sentence. Beasts and monsters lurk beyond the city walls, and it wasn't like you could just go to the next town over. Weynet made it sound like you should stay out of //any// city for now. Your first priority, then, should be gathering vital supplies. Well, actually, your first priority should be avoiding detection. You duck into a shady alley and tear a strip of fabric from the bottom of your shirt. As smoothly as you can with one hand, you attempt to tie the fabric around your scaled arm, gritting your teeth against the pain caused by the friction. With that out of the way, //now// you could prioritize supplies. [[See what you can find at home.]] [[Hit the shops in town.]]

As soon as you get home and shut the door behind you, you sink to the floor and pull your knees up to your chest. The blood roars in your ears, and you still can't decide if your arm feels more like it's been encased in ice or set on fire, or perhaps like a thousand tiny daggers had been driven through each pore. At least now you can react to it freely. The remainder of your evening is spent that way, curled up on the floor, riding wave after wave of excrutiating pain. Needless to say, rest does not come easy. A strange energy hums through your veins, too, keeping your brain wide awake and running rampant even as your body gives out and begs for sleep. At some point, your wish is granted, though whether it's proper sleep or pain and shock-driven unconsciousness remains a mystery. Either way, you blink awake at the first sign of dawn light the following morning. Normally, you greet each sunrise with the drive and passion you need to tackle the day, but as light fills your room, all you want to do is drag the sun back below the distant horizon and return to sleep. Your arm still itches, but thankfully, the absolute agony of the previous day has subsided. Much to your alarm, however, more crimson scales have appeared overnight, clawing all the way up to your elbow. You can't show up to the castle like this. [[Bandage it.]] [[Wear long sleeves and gloves.]]

You retrieve a roll of bandages and do your best to wrap your arm, not stopping until your skin is covered up to your elbow. The friction aggravates the scales, but you tell yourself it's nothing you can't handle. [[Get breakfast.]] [[Go to training.]]

You tug on a pair of black gloves that just about reach your elbows, and throw on a long-sleeved tunic over them. The friction aggravates the scales, but you tell yourself it's nothing you can't handle. [[Get breakfast.]] [[Go to training.]]

(set: $breakfast to true)\ Training on an empty stomach simply won't do. You head to the kitchen and scavenge for whatever looks most edible, which ends up being two thickly-sliced pieces of bread paired with the sweet strawberry jam you'd haggled off a kind farmer the last time he'd been in town with his wares. As you take your first bite of food, your tooth gets caught on your lip. It leaves you with a slight sting, but when you brush your thumb over your lip, there's no blood. Thinking it was just an unlucky bite, you continue eating. It happens again. A small frown threatens to cross your face. You run your thumb lightly across your top teeth until it finds the canine. When it does, you pull your hand back in surprise at the slight prick that greets it. Your canines are definitely sharper than they were yesterday, and a bit longer as well. That seems... concerning. With stiff movements, you return to your meal, being more cautious to avoid catching your lips on your... fangs, apparently. Your stomach lurches as you finish, though whether it's from fullness or anxiety regarding the day ahead of you remains unclear. Part of you wants to stay home, but you know that wouldn't reflect well on you, and you don't want to lose your reputation now. [[Go to training.]]

The castle looms over you as you approach. A shiver runs down your spine--you haven't felt this intimidated since your first day of training. A few other trainees have beat you to the courtyard. Some are paired up already, sparring with wooden swords. Others keep to themselves, stretching or working with a practice dummy. [[Look for a partner.]] [[Warm up by yourself.]]

(set: $suspicion to it+1)\ You fetch a wooden training sword from the wall for yourself and assess your options, eyes passing over the existing pairs in search of a lone trainee. Dreynor is setting up a training dummy across the courtyard and you decide to cross over to him. When he notices your approach, he lets out an exaggerated groan. "Can't you let me off the hook for just one day, $name?" he asks, rotating his arm at the shoulder. "I'm still sore from our match yesterday." "Oh, come on." You give his arm a light nudge. "I think you're finally starting to bulk out a little. Don't give up now!" "Fine," he scoffs, brushing your hand aside. His expression sobers as he turns away from the dummy to face you fully. "What about you? Are you okay? After... whatever happened yesterday?" [["Don't worry about me."]] [["My hand's just a bit sore."]]

Electing to start small, you claim an unoccupied corner of the courtyard and start to stretch. You don't get very far before a shadow falls over you. Looking up, you meet the eyes of Ilikoth. He offers a small, thin smile. Something about it seems hollow. "Good morning, $name," he says. "Weynet told me you had an awfully bad muscle cramp yesterday. I wanted to see how you were doing--tell me, how's your hand today?" [["It's much better."]] [["It's still a bit sore."]]

(set: $suspicion to it+1)\ Ilikoth tips his head slightly. "Is that so? Wonderful. Do you mind if I take a look at it? Just to be sure?" You shoot him a questioning look. With an amused huff, Ilikoth says, "I know enchantments better than anyone here. It's curious that this only happened after you encountered one, that's all. An avid participant in the arcane, such as myself, can't help his interest. So? May I?" "I'd rather you not," you tell him. Ilikoth backs off and lifts his hands in a placating motion. "Have it your way. I suppose I'm not a medic, after all." He lowers his hands. "Still, my point stands. These circumstances are rather fascinating. Do let me know if you change your mind." He slinks off to the edge of the courtyard and vanishes into the shade of an overhang. You try not to grimace. [[Finish warming up.]]

Ilikoth lets out a curious hum. "Sorry to hear that. These circumstances are just so fascinating to me. I've never seen someone have a reaction like that to an enchantment." Not knowing what to say to that, you give him a noncommittal shrug and move into your next stretch, hoping he'll leave you alone. Unfortunately for you, Ilikoth doesn't walk away, and instead takes his chin lightly between his thumb and forefinger. "You know, I might have something that could ease the pain. We recently received some new potions--they aren't intended for you trainees, of course, but I could probably relinquish one if you let me take a closer look at that arm of yours. I'd be very interested to see if the enchantment had some sort of lingering effect on you." "I'm okay," you reply. "I wouldn't make a very good knight if I couldn't handle a little ache here and there." Though his smile doesn't drop, you swear Ilikoth's eyes darken a shade. Still, if he's disappointed, he tries not to show it. "I suppose that's true. Well, should you change your mind, you know where to find me." He turns and starts to walk away, then pauses and glances back at you. "I am the most informed magical specialist here, you know," he says. "If you did, in fact, have a reaction to the enchantment, I can help you sort out whatever it was." He pauses. "Take it easy in the meantime." Ilikoth slinks off to the edge of the courtyard and vanishes into the shade of an overhang. You try not to grimace. [[Finish warming up.]]

The rest of your stretches pass without further incident, and Ilikoth is nowhere to be seen when Weynet claps his hands and gathers everyone together. You join the rest of your peers and listen as Weynet discusses which skills you'll be fine-tuning today--in this case, archery. "It's not traditionally a weapon that knights are expected to use," Weynet explains, "but I'm not about to let any of my trainees get their first assignments without at least knowing how to hit an unmoving target. It's been a while, so we need to brush up. Get going." You retrieve a bow and pick out a quiver of arrows, being careful not to select one with any bent arrows (some of your fellow trainees are quite clumsy when it comes to archery). Lining up alongside a few others, you fit an arrow onto your bow and pull the string back until your hand comes to rest along your jawline. The moment you uncurl your fingers and release the string, fresh pain erupts in your arm. The bowstring snapped against your forearm--a rookie mistake, likely caused by the time since you've last held a bow. Before, you would have expected a welt to form where the string hit your forearm and little else, but now, the pain reverberates throughout the entire limb, as if each and every scale felt the hit individually. Your arm trembles as you lower the bow. [[Try again.]] [[Take a break.]]

It takes a moment to snag a new arrow, as your nervous energy leaves you twitchy and fumbling with the quiver at your hip, but you manage to draw one up and situate it along the bow. With a deep breath, you pull the string back for a second attempt. It's hard to steady your aim thanks to your still-shaking arm, but when you think you have it lined up well enough, you loose the arrow. It soars through the air and narrowly misses the target, but it's close enough that you don't think your poor aim will cause much of a fuss amongst the others. You steal a glance around to make sure, and just as you thought, everyone seems consumed in their own shooting. Weynet didn't even see you, by the looks of it, for he's in the middle of giving another trainee pointers on her form. The rest of the session passes in a blur. You think you hit some of your shots. Fewer than you would normally, perhaps, but still enough to avoid drawing too much attention to yourself. Soon enough, it's time for lunch. Most of the trainees filter out in a single, large pack, starving and eager for a break. Your stomach growls, and your arm offers a pained pulse in response. [[Go to lunch.]] [[Stay behind.]]

(set: $suspicion to it+1)\ A frustrated, pained growl slips out of your throat, and you walk away from the target. Some of your fellow trainees watch you go with raised eyebrows and curious expressions. You know it's not like you to give up or show annoyance, but the sting in your arm is enough to push you over the edge. Though everyone seems confused and surprised about your lack of participation, the rest of the session does eventually come to pass. You try to shoot a few more times towards the end, and one arrow reaches the target. You're still disappointed. Lunchtime arrives. Most of the trainees filter out in a single, large pack, starving and eager for a break of their own. Your stomach growls, and your arm offers a pained pulse in response. [[Go to lunch.]] [[Stay behind.]]

You let yourself get swept up in the crowd and follow everyone to the dining hall, where you receive a plate of warm food and a piece of bread that's only a little stale. At this point, you've all accepted that the best food is saved for the full-fledged royal knights--one of many perks you're looking forward to receiving after completing your training. (if: $breakfast is true)[After your experience at breakfast, you already know to be mindful of your elongated teeth as you take your first bite of food. The extra caution slows you down a bit compared to the other trainees, who seem to wolf down their meals in mere minutes, but going slow is better than ending up with a bloody lip.](else:)[As you take your first bite of food, your tooth gets caught on your lip. It leaves you with a slight sting, but when you brush your thumb over your lip, there's no blood. Thinking it was just an unlucky bite, you continue eating. It happens again. A small frown threatens to cross your face. You run your thumb lightly across your top teeth until it finds the canine. When it does, you pull your hand back in surprise at the slight prick that greets it. Your canines are definitely sharper than they were yesterday, and a bit longer as well. That seems... concerning. With stiff movements, you return to your meal, being more cautious to avoid catching your lips on your... fangs, apparently.] Somehow, you manage to get through all of your food just as the cooks arrive to shoo everyone out of the dining hall. You pick yourself up and watch your fellow trainees exit, flexing the wrist of your scaled arm. [[Go back to the courtyard.]] [[Find a secluded spot to check your arm.]]

(set: $suspicion to it+1)\ You lean against a pillar and slide down to the ground, not budging from your spot even as the last trainee exits the courtyard. Food might have been nice, but a moment to yourself sounds even better. Your eyes fall shut and you take a deep breath in. The light beyond your eyelids darkens, and you crack them open again to see Weynet standing over you, blocking out the sun. You bilnk up at him, and he drops to the ground across from you with a soft thump. "You okay, $name?" he asks, eyebrows drawn together. "Don't you want to eat?" [["I'm not hungry."]] [["I want to keep training."]]

Just as you did before, you melt into the crowd and follow everyone back to the courtyard, where Weynet welcomes you all back with a grin. Your arm aches a little, so you rub it as he talks to the group, and end up doing an overhead stretch to make it look more natural. Weynet has you all execute some hand-to-hand combat against training dummies, so as to avoid any injuries right before the assessment, and you're grateful for it for a number of reasons. It's easy to avoid using your scaled arm too much, and you needn't worry about it getting struck when your opponent is a lifeless sack of hay. The day is rounded out with more swordplay ("Just to keep you sharp," says Weynet. "No pun intended.") and while it includes a few close calls, you manage to keep your arm from taking any direct hits. You think it might be ready to fall off by the time you're done anyway--but the other trainees seem to be faring about as well after a long day of physical activity. Just as the sun begins to dip in the sky and cast everything in an orange hue, Weynet once again claps his hands together and calls everyone over to him. [[Go hear what he has to say.]]

(set: $suspicion to it+1) (set: $confrontation to true)\ You wait until everyone else has left before leaving the dining hall, and set a slow pace for yourself so even the stragglers just ahead of you leave you behind. Once you're alone, you duck into a side hall and pull your sleeve up to steal a look at your arm. You reach for the covering to remove it, but before you get that far, the realization that there's no need hits you like a shield bash to the chest. The scales have spread past your elbow. They've almost reached your shoulder. You touch them lightly with your opposite hand, eyes blown wide. Just how far are these going to spread? There's no time to worry about that now. You roll your sleeve back down, steel yourself, and emerge back into the main hallway. Almost immediately, you falter yet again. Ilikoth walks further down the hallway, towards you. He lifts an eyebrow upon seeing you emerge from the side hall. "You know, $name, Weynet only has good things to say about you. Leaving early, sneaking around? This is quite unlike the image I was given of you. Is Weynet's judgment just that far off these days?" [[Stand up for yourself.]] [[Act humble and let it slide.]]

(set: $suspicion to it+1)\ "Of course not," you fire back. "Weynet's judgment is as sharp as ever. I apologize if I've left a bad impression, but I am every bit the knight he claims I am." "Then I'm sure you're well aware of the fact that your break is over, no?" Ilikoth tilts his head to one side, eyes narrowing. "A good knight does as (if: $gender is "f")[she's](else-if: $gender is "m")[he's](else-if: $gender is "nb")[they're] told. No matter the..." His eyes fall to your arm for a brief moment before returning to your face. "...distractions (if: $gender is "f")[she](else-if: $gender is "m")[he](else-if: $gender is "nb")[they] may encounter." You fight the urge to hide or grab onto your arm. Instead, you jut your chin out and reply, "I'm afraid you're the only distraction in my way right now, //sir//. I was on my way back to the others. So, if you'll excuse me..." An amused huff escapes Ilikoth. "Ah, of course. I certainly wouldn't want to be responsible for holding you up. Run along, then." Not needing another excuse to leave Ilikoth, you start walking, shoulders squared and head still raised high. Your pace slows as you distance yourself more from Ilikoth, however, as your previous problem jumps back to the forefront of your mind. The burning sensation in your arm stings, ever-present, and seeming to grow more and more noticeable as the day pushes on. It's not something you can ignore; the scales are spreading. You could try to leave and head home for the day to keep them hidden, but that might earn you unwanted attention, too. On the other hand, you've made it this far. Maybe you can last the rest of the day without them getting out of control. [[Leave while you can.]] [[Return to the courtyard.]]

You force a sheepish smile to your face. "Weynet's fine. I'm afraid he might talk me up a bit more than I deserve, though. I'm not much better than the other trainees." "Clearly not," Ilikoth remarks. "Off you go, then. Back to the courtyard. In case you were unaware, lunch is over." Not needing another excuse to leave Ilikoth, you start walking, keeping the smile pasted on your face until you pass him. Then the smile drops immediately into a scowl. Your pace slows as you distance yourself more from Ilikoth, and your previous problem jumps back to the forefront of your mind. The burning sensation in your arm stings, ever-present, and seeming to grow more and more noticeable as the day pushes on. It's not something you can ignore; the scales are spreading. You could try to leave and head home for the day to keep them hidden, but that might earn you unwanted attention, too. On the other hand, you've made it this far. Maybe you can last the rest of the day without them getting out of control. [[Leave while you can.]] [[Return to the courtyard.]]

By the time you get back to the courtyard, the others are all already engaged in hand-to-hand combat against training dummies. You head over to Weynet, racking your brain for a decent excuse, but he jerks a thumb towards an unoccupied dummy before you reach him. Good, he doesn't want to hear your excuses, either. You fall in line with the others and do your best to show a solid form against the dummy. It's easy to avoid using your scaled arm too much, and you needn't worry about it getting struck when your opponent is a lifeless sack of hay. The day is rounded out with more swordplay ("Just to keep you sharp," says Weynet. "No pun intended.") and while it includes a few close calls, you manage to keep your arm from taking any direct hits. You think it might be ready to fall off by the time you're done anyway--but the other trainees seem to be faring about as well after a long day of physical activity. Just as the sun begins to dip in the sky and cast everything in an orange hue, Weynet once again claps his hands together and calls everyone over to him. [[Go hear what he has to say.]]

"That's not like you." Weynet tilts his head, concern shining in his eyes. You glance away, uncomfortable with how easily the lie slipped from your tongue. "Well, I was gonna head over and grab something myself," Weynet says. "I'll bring you something back, too. You don't have to eat it, but..." He trails off with a shrug and a sheepish grin. "I don't know. It's important to eat to keep your energy up. You seem to be having a hard time today." Apparently he noticed, after all. You keep your gaze trained on a spot on the floor. "Yeah." Weynet pushes himself back to his feet. "Eh, no worries. We all have days like that sometimes. I'll be right back." "Yeah," you say again. "...Thanks." He leaves, and you find yourself alone in the courtyard. It should take Weynet a few minutes to fetch the food. [[Check your arm.]] [[Wait.|Wait for Weynet.]]

(set: $suspicion to it+1)\ "Ah, yes, my favorite kind of training is the kind where I sit on the ground with my eyes closed, too," Weynet shoots back with a lopsided grin that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "I was just waiting for everybody to clear out first," you say, rubbing the back of your neck. "Well, they're gone now." Weynet pushes himself back to his feet. "I did notice you've been kind of off your game today. That's okay--everybody has days like that. It'll only be a problem if you let it keep you down on the ground." He holds out a hand. "So, let's get back to it, yeah?" [[Take his hand.]]

Now's probably the best time you'll get for this all day. You roll your sleeve back, preparing to remove the covering on your arm, but you quickly realize you don't even have to go that far. The scales have spread past your elbow. They've almost reached your shoulder. You touch them lightly with your opposite hand, eyes blown wide. Just how far are these going to spread? The courtyard gate swings open in the distance with a squeal that pierces through your thoughts. Panic grips you as Weynet comes back into view, two small sacks in his hand. [[Rush to hide your arm.]] [[Try to play it off.]]

You count blades of grass until the piercing squeal of the courtyard gate opening catches your attention. Upon looking up, Weynet comes back into view, waving two small sacks triumphantly by his head. A small smile tugs at your lips, and you thank him again when he gets close enough to hand you one of the sacks. He plops down across from you and pulls a bread roll from his sack just as you tear into yours. You both eat your lunches, exchanging basic pleasantries and small talk to pass the time. Soon enough, the other trainees return with full bellies and renewed vigor. [[Resume training.]]

(set: $suspicion to it+1)\ You yank your sleeve down over the scales with a harsh, abrupt motion. Weynet's gait falters as he takes in your dramatic display, but he recovers quickly and comes to a stop a few feet away. "Everything okay?" he asks. "Yeah." He waits for you to elaborate, but you don't. Weynet rocks back on his heels, seeming to debate with himself over something, before deciding against whatever it was and holding one of the small sacks out towards you. Happy to have the distraction, you snatch the bag from him and pull out a bread roll. He hesitates a moment longer before settling on the ground across from you. Minimal conversation is exchanged as you both eat your lunches. It's a bit awkward, but not unbearable. After a while, the other trainees return with full bellies and renewed vigor. You glance down at your arm again as everyone finishes filing in. The burning sensation is still there, ever-present, and seeming to grow more difficult to ignore as the day goes by. It's not a problem you can disregard; the scales are spreading. You could try to leave and head home for the day to keep them hidden, but that might earn you unwanted attention, too. You've made it this far. Maybe you can last the rest of the day without them getting out of control. [[Make an escape.]] [[Resume training.]]

As quickly as you can without exposing your panic, you tug your sleeve back down to cover the scales. Weynet wears a puzzled expression as he closes the gap between you. He offers the sack to you, which you take wordlessly. Once you've opened it and pulled out a small bread roll, he speaks: "Is you arm okay? It looked... pretty red from the distance." You take your time chewing a bite of bread. After swallowing, you say, "I scraped it up worse than I thought. It's a little scabbed." If Weynet takes issue with your excuse, he doesn't show it. He just gives a sympathetic hum and nods before diving into his own small sack of food. You both eat your lunches, exchanging basic pleasantries and small talk to pass the time. Soon enough, the other trainees return with full bellies and renewed vigor. You glance down at your arm again as everyone finishes filing in. The burning sensation is still there, ever-present, and seeming to grow more difficult to ignore as the day goes by. It's not a problem you can disregard; the scales are spreading. You could try to leave and head home for the day to keep them hidden, but that might earn you unwanted attention, too. You've made it this far. Maybe you can last the rest of the day without them getting out of control. [[Make an escape.]] [[Resume training.]]

Weynet hops up and goes to greet the others as they stream back into the courtyard, leaving you to dispose of the two (now empty) sacks. You brush off your shirt to dislodge a few breadcrumbs and then join the rest of the trainees. Weynet has you all execute some hand-to-hand combat against training dummies, so as to avoid any injuries right before the assessment, and you're grateful for it for a number of reasons. It's easy to avoid using your scaled arm too much, and you needn't worry about it getting struck when your opponent is a lifeless sack of hay. The day is rounded out with more swordplay ("Just to keep you sharp," says Weynet. "No pun intended.") and while it includes a few close calls, you manage to keep your arm from taking any direct hits. You think it might be ready to fall off by the time you're done anyway--but the other trainees seem to be faring about as well after a long day of physical activity. Just as the sun begins to dip in the sky and cast everything in an orange hue, Weynet once again claps his hands together and calls everyone over to him. [[Go hear what he has to say.]]

Weynet waits until everyone has gathered in front of him before speaking. "Alright, you lot," he says. "I've done just about all I can for you. You're in great shape, and you all have the skills necessary to get you through tomorrow. I have full confidence that with any luck, you'll impress all the knights and be receiving your first assignments shortly thereafter." A murmur of excitement sweeps through the trainees. You, too, can't help but feel excited, heart swelling. "Rest well tonight," Weynet continues. "You'll need your strength. I expect good news from all of you, y'hear me?" A few trainees let out confident shouts in response, and everyone seems to be in good spirits as they wander out of the courtyard for the day. You follow suit, heart pounding in your chest--although, in your case, there's remnants of anxiety alongside your excitement for the future. Despite the stress, you think you've done it. The castle gate is only a few minutes' walk away and then you'll be free. Perhaps your odd behavior today wasn't odd enough to garner any unwanted attention, after all. (if: $suspicion > 7)[[[Go home.|Training Fail]]](else:)[[[Go home.|Training Success]]]

Before you make it out of the castle, a voice calls out from behind you. "$name. Just a moment, please." Your blood runs cold as you look over your shoulder and see Ilikoth walking towards you. You turn to face him as the gap between you shrinks. He doesn't say anything at first. He waits until everyone else is well out of earshot. "You've said some interesting things today," he finally continues. "Some rather carelessly, I might add." "What do you mean?" Ilikoth narrows his eyes. "Hold out your arm, $name." [[Refuse.]] [[Run.]]

With each step you take away from the castle, more tension eases from your shoulders. It seems like you've made it out undetected for now. At the very least, you're certain the day could have gone much, much worse, especially with Ilikoth lingering in the shadows at every turn. Tomorrow might be harder, but you're ready. Now that you've done it once, you know you can do it again. [[Retry your training day.|Training Start]] (link: "Play again from the beginning.")[(reload:)]

You hurry to the castle gate and try to keep your pace steady despite the ever-present throbbing of your wrist. As you make your way down the front walkway and approach the main gate, the guard currently posted there notices you and offers a friendly wave. "I've seen you with the knight recruits before," they say. "Where are you off to so early?" [[Say you aren't feeling well.]] [[Duck your head and move past without responding.]]

Weynet pulls you back up to your feet, but you notice his eyes lingering on your wrist just a second too long to be natural. You keep your face as neutral as you can, though it sends a jolt of dread piercing through your chest. He says nothing else, though, and instead leads you back over to the archery targets. As you draw your first arrow, you realize you have Weynet's undivided attention, and the anxiety pooling in your stomach coils even tighter. If your arm shakes again, he'll be bound to notice. With as much willpower as you can muster, you take your aim and hold your form as steady as you can. The arrow slices through the air a moment later and plunges into the target--not a bullseye, but a decent enough shot. Weynet, arms crossed, lets out a thoughtful hum as he assesses the target. "You seem hesitant today," he says. [[Blame it on hunger.]] [[Tell him your arm is still hurting.]]

"I guess I'm hungrier than I thought," you admit. "My stomach's distracting me." With an exasperated scoff, Weynet rolls his eyes, and some of the tension leaves his shoulders. "Who would've guessed that a full morning of physical work would leave somebody hungry? You should've just gone with the others to the dining hall." You give him a sheepish grin. "Yeah, I guess so." "You know, overworking yourself can be just as bad as never working at all," Weynet continues. "Why don't we call it here for now and let me go grab us some food?" "That's probably a good idea," you say. "Thanks." He leaves, and you find yourself alone in the courtyard. It should take Weynet a few minutes to fetch the food. [[Check your arm.]] [[Wait.|Wait for Weynet.]]

(set: $suspicion to it+1)\ "Honestly, my hand's still kinda sore from the weird cramp yesterday," you tell him, slowly rotating your hand at the wrist. Weynet winces and nods. "Right." After a moment's hesitation, he glances sideways at you and asks, "There's nothing... else, right? No inflammation or anything like that? Just sore?" "...Just sore," you confirm. "Right," he says, again. "Weird timing, though, huh? Probably not how you wanted your first time dealing with magic to go." You fill the subsequent silence with a nervous chuckle. "Not really. Took me by surprise, for sure." Weynet keeps nodding along to your words. "Well, if that's the case, you should probably keep resting it when you get the chance, so let's call it quits for now. I don't know about you, but I was pretty hungry, anyway. I'll grab you something, too, if you still want to stay here." "I appreciate it." After so many small lies, the genuine gratitude that laces the statement feels like a relief. Weynet takes his leave, and you find yourself alone in the courtyard. It should take Weynet a few minutes to fetch the food. [[Check your arm.]] [[Wait.|Wait for Weynet.]]

Sticking to as many barren streets and dark corners as you can find, you make your way home. The relief that washes over you upon closing the door is short-lived, though. People know you live here, and it'll likely be the first place they check when your absence is noticed. First things first... [[Look for food.]] [[Look for a weapon.]]

Sticking to barren streets and dark corners when you can, you make your way deeper into the city. It becomes impossible to avoid the crowds completely as you near the shopping district, but you doubt anyone would pay much mind to a simple, makeshift bandage. With Weynet's words echoing in your ears, it's hard to relax regardless, but you do your best to ease the tension in your shoulders. There were more important matters to focus on, like which supplies to seek out first. [[Buy food.]] [[Buy a weapon.]]

(set: $food to true)\ You head to the kitchen and snag the sack you normally use to carry food home from the marketplace--which was a trip you were supposed to make tomorrow, meaning your kitchen isn't currently as well-stocked as it could be. Still, after a few minutes of scavenging, you collect enough to last you a few more days. There's a somewhat stale loaf of bread, some potatoes you could roast over a fire... Fresh meat won't travel well, but you have some dried strips of jerky that you throw in the sack as well. [[Head into town.]] (if: $weapon is false)[[[Look for a weapon.|Look for a weapon.]]]

Nothing but danger lies beyond the city walls. That's what you've always been taught. So, you'll need something to defend yourself with. If only this had happened next week... Upon completing your knight training, you would've received a new sword of your own. The thought makes your heart sink. Was your dream wiped away, just like that? Or would you be able to return someday? You shake your head roughly. There's no time for questions like that now. You head to your room, eyes falling upon the sword that rests on your dresser. The silver blade is cloudy and dented with age, but its edge remains sharp enough to function, and you're well acquainted with its weight. Still, it might not hold up against the hides of the beasts beyond the walls. [[Take it anyway.]] [[Plan to buy a new one instead.]]

(set: $weapon to true)\ It's better than nothing. You dig its sheath out from under your bed and loop it around your belt before sliding the blade inside. Even if it //would// break against stronger monsters, there shouldn't be many close to the city, anyway. Most are hunted and kept away by large parties of knights. [[Head into town.]] (if: $food is false)[[[Look for food.|Look for food.]]]

Deciding the old sword would probably only weigh you down, you place it back on your dresser and leave the room. You should have enough coin to get a better one from the local blacksmith. Hopefully, they'll have some available. [[Head into town.]] (if: $food is false)[[[Look for food.|Look for food.]]]

You pass a final look around your home before you depart, tugging the door shut slowly behind you. With any luck, you'll be able to return here, once things settle down. A horn sounds off in the distance, signifying the delivery of a message straight from the castle. Your heart skips a beat and your pace falters, before you recover and continue your steady approach towards the main stretch of the city. Such messages are unusual. Something must have happened in the castle itself or just beyond the walls to warrant a public announcement. And, as far as you know, the only strange occurrence lately has been... You tug the fabric on your arm a little tighter and swallow hard. [[See what the message is about.]]

(set: $food to true)\ You won't last long at all without food to sustain your energy. There's a place a few streets down where farmers' caravans can roll in and set up shop. You head that way, making stops as you go to buy fresh bread and dried meats. Finally, you reach the produce market, and make a quick pass down the line to gather a variety of fruits and vegetables. You end up with a hefty sack of food that should last you well into the foreseeable future. It carved a solid chunk out of your coin supply, too, but you're hopeful that you'll still have enough to secure a decent means of defending yourself. [[Look for a weapon to buy.]]

(set: $weapon to true) Defense is your biggest concern. Even if you can't buy food today, or if you run out later, maybe you can hunt if you have a decent weapon. At the very least, it should help keep you from being hunted yourself. The local forge is easy to find; you follow the thin plume of black smoke drifting towards the clouds until you come upon a worn, stone building. It's smaller than the one hosted by the royal knights, but you're hoping its prices will be lower in return. Standing outside is the blacksmith herself, light hair pulled back in a tight bun. She hammers away at a scrap of metal and looks up as you approach. "Hey there. Anything I can do for you today?" [["I'm looking for a blade."]]

You don't get very far away from the blacksmith before a horn goes off nearby, signifying the delivery of a message straight from the castle. Your pace falters. Such messages are unusual. Something must have happened in the castle itself or just beyond the walls to warrant a public announcement. And, as far as you know, the only strange occurrence lately has been... You tug the fabric on your arm a little tighter and swallow hard. [[See what the message is about.]]

Before you can make it to the blacksmith, however, a loud horn sounds from the next street over, signifying the delivery of a message straight from the castle. Your pace falters. Such messages are unusual. Something must have happened in the castle itself or just beyond the walls to warrant a public announcement. And, as far as you know, the only strange occurrence lately has been... You tug the fabric on your arm a little tighter and swallow hard. [[See what the message is about.]]

"I'm fine," you add. Dreynor holds his hands up in a placating manner. "Okay, okay, I'll take your word for it." He retrieves his own wooden sword, and the two of you begin another bout of sparring. You stick to basic parries and footwork to warm up gradually, but as you go in for your first real, solid strike, a rush of energy pulses through your bones, and a loud //crack!// reverberates through the courtyard. Dreynor stumbles back, half-catching himself before he's completely laid out. He lifts his sword--or the part of it that remains, anyway. You've broken it clean in half. Oh. Well, then. You steal a glance at your arm and wonder how it looks //now//. "Woah." Dreynor stares at the half of his sword, wide eyes fixed on the splintered end. "That's not even fair. How come you're //still// getting stronger?" You lower your blade and swallow hard. "Uh--been training hard, I guess." "Doesn't seem natural, at this point," Dreynor laments with a sigh. You tense at the words, but he wipes the back of his hand over his brow and stands up without pushing it further. [[Get him a new sword.]] [[Finish warming up on your own.]]

You wave your hand dismissively. "I'll be alright. It was a nasty cramp, though. I thought my hand was going to fall off." It's not a complete lie. Dreynor scrunches his nose up, sympathy flashing across his face. "Unlucky. Glad that's all it was." He retrieves his own wooden sword, and the two of you begin another bout of sparring. You stick to basic parries and footwork to warm up gradually, but as you go in for your first real, solid strike, a rush of energy pulses through your bones, and a loud //crack!// reverberates through the courtyard. Dreynor stumbles back, half-catching himself before he's completely laid out. He lifts his sword--or the part of it that remains, anyway. You've broken it clean in half. Oh. Well, then. You steal a glance at your arm and wonder how it looks //now//. "Woah." Dreynor stares at the half of his sword, wide eyes fixed on the splintered end. "That's not even fair. How come you're //still// getting stronger?" You lower your blade and swallow hard. "Uh--been training hard, I guess." "Doesn't seem natural, at this point," Dreynor laments with a sigh. You tense at the words, but he wipes the back of his hand over his brow and stands up without pushing it further. [[Get him a new sword.]] [[Finish warming up on your own.]]

You bring Dreynor a new wooden sword and the two of you start a new round of sparring. The rush of energy you felt before doesn't return with the same ferocity, but the sword does seem a bit lighter than it has in the past. Odd. The rest of the match passes without further incident, and Dreynor has actually managed to land a blow or two himself when Weynet claps his hands and gathers everyone together. You join the rest of your peers and listen as Weynet discusses which skills you'll be fine-tuning today--in this case, archery. "It's not traditionally a weapon that knights are expected to use," Weynet explains, "but I'm not about to let any of my trainees get their first assignments without at least knowing how to hit an unmoving target. It's been a while, so we need to brush up. Get going." You retrieve a bow and pick out a quiver of arrows, being careful not to select one with any bent arrows (some of your fellow trainees are quite clumsy when it comes to archery). Lining up alongside a few others, you fit an arrow onto your bow and pull the string back until your hand comes to rest along your jawline. The moment you uncurl your fingers and release the string, fresh pain erupts in your arm. The bowstring snapped against your forearm--a rookie mistake, likely caused by the time since you've last held a bow. Before, you would have expected a welt to form where the string hit your forearm and little else, but now, the pain reverberates throughout the entire limb, as if each and every scale felt the hit individually. Your arm trembles as you lower the bow. [[Try again.]] [[Take a break.]]

"Sorry," you tell him. "Maybe we should switch to some dummies." "I think you might be a bit too much for me today," Dreynor agrees with a self-deprecating chuckle. You walk away while he shifts his focus back to the training dummy, clenching and unclenching your hand. After going through a few stretches and light exercises, Weynet claps his hands and gathers everyone together. You join the rest of your peers and listen as Weynet discusses which skills you'll be fine-tuning today--in this case, archery. "It's not traditionally a weapon that knights are expected to use," Weynet explains, "but I'm not about to let any of my trainees get their first assignments without at least knowing how to hit an unmoving target. It's been a while, so we need to brush up. Get going." You retrieve a bow and pick out a quiver of arrows, being careful not to select one with any bent arrows (some of your fellow trainees are quite clumsy when it comes to archery). Lining up alongside a few others, you fit an arrow onto your bow and pull the string back until your hand comes to rest along your jawline. The moment you uncurl your fingers and release the string, fresh pain erupts in your arm. The bowstring snapped against your forearm--a rookie mistake, likely caused by the time since you've last held a bow. Before, you would have expected a welt to form where the string hit your forearm and little else, but now, the pain reverberates throughout the entire limb, as if each and every scale felt the hit individually. Your arm trembles as you lower the bow. [[Try again.]] [[Take a break.]]

"No." You take a step back. Ilikoth rolls his eyes. In a flash, his hand shoots out and grabs your forearm. His grip is cold and as tight as irons. "I'm afraid that wasn't a request, $name," he says, silky voice clashing with the dark glint that enters his eyes. "I am //going// to get the answers out of you, one way or another." [[Pull away.]]

He knows. The thought stabs through your mind and throws all subtlety out the window. You turn on your heel and take off down the hall, almost tripping in your sudden desperation. These halls have never felt so long. The entrance shouldn't have taken you but a few moments to reach... but it doesn't seem to grow any closer this time. A hand catches your wrist with a cold grip, tight as irons. "Well, that certainly didn't help your case," Ilikoth says, yanking you to a halt. "I commend your valiant effort, though, all the way to the end." [[Pull away.]]

You pull, hard, and a rush of energy down your arm gives you the strength to break Ilikoth's grasp. It's a bit too much strength, though, and you aren't expecting the extra momentum. You stumble back and catch yourself on the ground, trying to scramble back as Ilikoth continues to advance. "Enough of this," he spits out. "You want to do it the hard way? Fine." Ilikoth pulls a vial out of his cloak with a dark liquid swirling inside. He tugs the cork off and dips his fingers inside. The liquid has no reaction to his skin, but when he holds his hand towards your face and flicks a few droplets at you, a few pepper your cheeks, sizzling upon constant. Instantly, a familiar, burning pain erupts on your face. Thoughts of fleeing evaporate immediately as you clap your hands over your face in an attempt to rub the liquid off, but all it does is smear it across your skin even more. [["What did you do to me?"]]

Ilikoth looms over you and gazes down at your convulsing form. "See, this is rather interesting, don't you think?" he says. "Yet another reaction to a magical item." He waves the vial. "Phoenix oil, in this case. No effect on my //human// self, as you saw. You, on the other hand..." Bumps begin to emerge on your cheeks. You feel them beneath your hands, and you already know they're new scales. They feel the same as the ones on your arm. "Well, just look at you." You turn onto your stomach and try to crawl away, reaching a shaking hand towards the light at the end of the hall. It seems smaller and more distant than ever. "Don't fret. This is a happy day," Ilikoth continues, circling you to block off your view of the exit. "Just think of all the good you can do now. The royal guard hasn't seen new dragon blood in generations. You will aid them and progress our kingdom in ways you never could have as a mere knight." Fear sinks its fangs into your chest. The hall seems to spin. "You get a shortcut to glory!" Ilikoth smirks above you, smug and condescending, like he's trying to pacify a small child. "Instead of years of thankless work, all you'll have to do is shed a few drops of blood." If only. You know better. If the enchanters stopped at "a few drops of blood," draconic bloodlines wouldn't be extinct now. When it becomes clear you have no intention of replying, Ilikoth draws his foot back, and the last thing you see is it swinging towards you before everything goes dark. [[Retry your training day.|Training Start]] (link: "Play again from the beginning.")[(reload:)]

If you hurry, perhaps you can slip out before Ilikoth's message reaches the edges of the city. He'll likely increase security and send out search parties to hunt for you, especially if Weynet's warning about Ilikoth's hunger for magic power was true--which it seems like it was, based solely on how quickly Ilikoth acted. You take deep breaths as you rush away from the city's center. It'll take time for the crowd to spread the word, too, so if you can stay ahead of them, nobody should be able to identify you in the streets. The main city gate seems like your best bet. People come in and out all the time, so it should look less suspicious than someone trying to sneak out a different way. You get there within a few minutes, and sure enough, a handful of other citizens are in the process of heading beyond the walls as well. [[Leave right away.]] [[Wait until nightfall.]]

If you hurry, perhaps you can slip out before Ilikoth's message reaches the edges of the city. He'll likely increase security and send out search parties to hunt for you, especially if Weynet's warning about Ilikoth's hunger for magic power was true--which it seems like it was, based solely on how quickly Ilikoth acted. You take deep breaths as you rush away from the city's center. It'll take time for the crowd to spread the word, too, so if you can stay ahead of them, nobody should be able to identify you in the streets. Still, the front gate may be too obvious, and it'll definitely be guarded most heavily. You angle your course away from it and towards the nearest edge. The walls are tall, but there are only a few watchtowers. You make it to the wall without issue and jog along its edge, away from the castle in the hopes of avoiding anyone who's heard the announcement. After a few minutes, you glance over your shoulder and confirm that you've found a blindspot between two of the towers. There may not be time to circle the entire city--this could be your best chance. [[Scale the wall.]] [[Wait until nightfall.|Wall night]]

The longer you wait, the more intense security will become. With that in mind, you don't hesitate before heading towards the gate. A merchant loads a few final crates into her caravan. It might be easier to lie if she'd let you join her--but you suppose there's also a chance that she's heard the news already, and may be just as suspicious of you as the knights. [[Ask the merchant for a ride.]] [[Leave alone.]]

In your head, you think that the cover of night will make it harder for anyone to identify you or spot you once you're outside of the city walls. In reality, the longer you linger in an alleyway, the more you realize that your window of opportunity seems to be shrinking with each passing hour. Four mounted horses arrived hours ago, presumably to deliver the news of an individual with draconic lineage, and since then, the security has only tightened. More and more knights gather at the gate, checking the skin of all those who wish to leave. You swallow hard. You can still do this. You just have to be fast enough. [[Run past the guards.]] [[Fight your way out.]]

Fueled by pure adrenaline and shock, you don't waste any time before running your hands along the wall's surface to search for handholds. There aren't many, so it's slow going, but you find enough that you manage to work your way up the side of the wall. The rock is scratchy and digs into your palms, but you can easily block it out. You're about halfway to the stop when a voice calls out from below, "Hey, what are you doing up there?! Come down at once!" A quick glance below reveals that a pair of knights waits for you at the bottom of the wall. [[Keep climbing.]] [[Drop down.]]

Climbing a wall in broad daylight sounds like a great way to get spotted. You duck into the closest alley and tear back a tarp strewn over a few barrels. It's a tight squeeze, but you manage to slot yourself in between two and pull the tarp back over them. And then, you wait. The day passes in agonizing slow motion, leaving you alone to focus on little other than your aching arm. The scales are spreading, starting to peek out from beneath the fabric as the sun sets, reaching all the way to your elbow. Once night has fallen, you emerge from behind the barrels and take a moment to shake out your limbs. Then, you approach the wall and run your hands along the wall's surface to search for handholds. There aren't many, so it's slow going, made even worse by the darkness of night, but you find enough that you manage to work your way up the side of the wall. The rock is scratchy and digs into your palms, but you can easily block it out. You let out a relieved breath upon making it to the top of the wall, but it doesn't stop your heart from hammering in your chest. Now, you just have to get down the other side. You could go about it a few ways. [[Slow and cautious.]] [[Fast but risky.]]

(if: $weapon is true)[Not wanting to hear the other knight's response, you draw your sword and charge forward. You tell yourself this is just like training. You're good at this--you can handle them. One of the knights unsheathes her own sword. The other holds a bow, and they hurry to nock an arrow as you cross blades with their partner, who grits her teeth at the impact, not expecting your strength. Honestly, it's more than you expect, too. A strange energy surges through you. Being careful to keep the woman between you and the other knight so they can't get a clear shot, you bear down on her harder, and the blows you exchange slide in your favor. You shove her back hard enough that she stumbles, and then swing your sword towards the other's bow, disrupting their shot and sending their weapon splintering to the side. On the backswing, you crack the hilt of your sword against the side of their head, and they collapse next to their partner. With quick movements, you sheathe your blade and rush back to the wall. Climbing it a second time is easier, as you already know where the handholds are and can get to the stop without having to search for the right path. The knight with a sword, still conscious, gets to her feet first. She takes the bow from her partner and nocks an arrow, and for a moment fear laces your veins. It seems there's a reason she wasn't the one wielding it before, though, for the arrow she releases goes wide. You make it to the top of the wall. The other guards will be alerted soon, but you should have just enough time to make it down the other side and vanish into the forest.](else:)[You have no choice. They may be knights, but right now, they stand between you and safety. You reach for a sword but your hand finds nothing. Right... You never acquired a weapon. Hopelessness seizes your chest. Even so, you throw yourself at the closest knight, trying to throw her off balance long enough to steal her blade for yourself. She's ready for you, though, and tries to grapple you. She has a hard time getting a hold on you, but the other knight has a bow, and before you can get your hands on the sword, they have an arrow pointed at your chest. You go still just long enough for the other knight to restrain you, a hold that she keeps despite your subsequent writhing. You know you can't do anything else with an arrow a mere fingers' twitch away from finding a home in your chest. You lower your head as the knights secure your arms back.] [[Retry your escape.|Escape Start]] (link: "Play again from the beginning.")[(reload:)]

Not wanting to hear the other knight's response, you take off towards the closest alley, hoping that if you can make it that far, you'll be able to lose them in the crowds and tight streets beyond. Unfortunately, the knights have just as quick of reaction times. One of them darts after you instantly, though you think you stand a chance. Her armor weighs her down--you, on the other hand, can run as fast as you can without issue. Just as you think you'll be able to reach the alley, the knight who stayed behind yells, "Get out of the way!" and the footsteps behind you stop. Before you can think about what that means, pain erupts in your calf. Your leg gives out, and you crash to the ground, chin bashing hard against the stone pathway. Bitter iron stings your tongue, and you spit out a bit of blood. It almost seems to mock you from where it lands on the stone. All of this, just because of what's in your veins. You push yourself to your hands and knees and look back. An arrow juts out of your calf, and the sight of it sends a wave of dizziness over you. The pursuing knight catches up and kicks you onto your back. She plants a heavy boot on your chest, draws her sword, and levels it at your throat. You close your eyes, breathing hard, and let your head fall back against the ground with a soft thump as more footsteps approach. Everything hurts. You never asked for this. Your head hangs low as hands grab your arms and haul you upright. [[Retry your escape.|Escape Start]] (link: "Play again from the beginning.")[(reload:)]

Since you haven't been spotted, you decide there's no reason to start rushing now. You slowly cross the wall until you get to its opposite edge, and take your time searching for the right point from which to descend. Once you think you've found a safe position, you find the first foothold and gradually work your way down the wall. Part of you thinks it's going a little //too// smoothly, but you keep your breathing steady until your foot finds solid ground. You made it. Just like that. You let out a soft, relieved sigh, and push into the forest ahead, ready to take on any struggles that await. [[Retry your escape.|Escape Start]] (link: "Play again from the beginning.")[(reload:)]

You rush to the other side of the wall and sling a leg over the edge without pausing. A fall from this height might kill you, but there's also a chance that the trees below would offer enough of a cushion. Regardless, as long as you don't get too out of control, you're hopeful that you won't fall. Your leg finds the first foothold, and you search for the next with long, sweeping motions. In your rush, you end up at a dead end. There are no more footholds below you. You've made it about halfway down the wall. [[Look for a different route.]] [[Let go and fall.]]

If they see your arm, that'll be the end of it. You know you can't give them that chance. Most people don't leave at night. You'll be harder to spot if you can get far enough away--but they'll also see you approach. You act natural for as long as you can, waiting until the guard acknowledges you to jump into motion. "So," he starts, "I know it's a hassle, but we've got orders to--hey!" You take off in a sprint, hoping against all odds that if you make it out of the torchlight, you'll be able to find cover in the dark of night. Barely a moment passes before you realize your error: They have horses. You don't stand a chance. Indeed, they're on you way before you can reach the forest in the distance. Two of them surge ahead of you and circle back, swords at the ready, while the other two bring up the rear, presumably just as ready to strike. You slow to a halt and lean forward, planting your hands on your knees and sucking in deep gasps of air. It was a valiant effort on your part, but horses have you beat in terms of speed. You lower your head and try to calm the racing of your heart, but it only seems to get worse as one of the knights dismounts and secures your arms back. You know what awaits you back in the city. [[Retry your escape.|Escape Start]] (link: "Play again from the beginning.")[(reload:)]

(if: $weapon is true)[If you can just take out enough to distract the others, maybe they'll tend to them instead of chasing you. You stride forward and draw your sword, the movement catching the eyes of the guards. Five of them stand against you--not the best odds, for sure, but... doable. You have to believe that. As they take in your appearance, one lets out a gasp. "That's the one, alright. Keep (if: $gender is "f")[her](else-if: $gender is "m")[him](else-if: $gender is "nb")[them] alive but don't let (if: $gender is "f")[her](else-if: $gender is "m")[him](else-if: $gender is "nb")[them] pass." You narrow your eyes, sword at the ready. They charge you at once, and immediately you regret trying to take them all on at once. Really, what did you expect? You're just one person. You parry their blows for a short time, which is impressive in and of itself, but they inevitably tire you out without expending too much strength themselves. Panting, you lower your sword and then drop it. One of the knights kicks it away from you, and another comes to secure your arms back, while the other three keep their swords pointed your way. As if there's anything else you could do. You lower your head as they pull you away from the gate.](else:)[If you can just take out enough to distract the others, maybe they'll tend to them instead of chasing you. You stride forward and reach for your sword--only to realize your fatal flaw. You never found a sword. All you have are your fists. The guards exchange looks at your odd display of reaching for nothing at your hip. Then they seem to take in your apperance and exchange even more looks. Before they can speak, you take off and peel away from the city. They expect it, though, and give chase. Despair sinks in your stomach like a rock as the knights overtake you, one tackling you to the ground. Your chin bashes hard against the stone pathway. Bitter iron stings your tongue, and you spit out a bit of blood. It almost seems to mock you from where it lands on the stone. All of this, just because of what's in your veins. Footsteps grow closer behind you, and the sound of metal-on-metal fills your ears as swords are unsheathed and leveled at your head. You close your eyes, breathing hard. Everything hurts. You never asked for this. Your head hangs low as hands grab your arms and haul you upright.] [[Retry your escape.|Escape Start]] (link: "Play again from the beginning.")[(reload:)]

You ignore the knights below and focus on reaching the top of the wall. It's only a few yards away, now--what can the knights do to stop you? A wave of dizziness hits you from the irony. You never thought you, of all people, would be fleeing from royal knights. Shaking it off, you reach for the next handhold. The shouting below continues. You hear a warning, and maybe a countdown. What do they think you are, a child? But then a sharp, sudden pain pierces your calf, and with a gasp, you shudder against the wall, nails digging deep into the rocky surface. For a moment, you think you're going to fall as your leg gives out. A downward glance shows you an arrow sticking out of it, and another sweep of vertigo passes over you. Your uninjured leg holds steady, though less so by the second, shaking from exertion and shock. The top of the wall, despite being closer than ever, feels unattainable. It stretches further and further away. Gravity proves to be too strong a force, and you pick your way back down the wall, falling the last ten feet or so and crumbling in a pile of limbs the moment you touch the ground. Your leg screams in pain, and it's all you can do to roll over and get to your hands and knees. The two knights advance, one with another arrow nocked and the other with a hand on the hilt of her sword. [[Try to run.]] [[Try to fight.]]

Your heart sinks, and the weight of it drags you down with it. With slow, careful movements, you search for the the holds you'd used before to return to the ground. The knights stare at you in bewilderment as you turn to face them. "Just what exactly were you trying to do?" one asks, eyeing you up and down with a glare. "Wait a minute." The other puts a hand on the shoulder of the first. She leans in and mutters something in their ear. "This?" they reply, drawing their eyebrows together. "You think this is (if: $gender is "f")[her](else-if: $gender is "m")[him](else-if: $gender is "nb")[them]?" You bite your lip. That doesn't sound promising. [[Run away.]] [[Fight.]]

You have no choice. Mustering all your willpower and praying adrenaline will be enough to stave off the throbbing pain in your leg, you drag yourself upright and take off towards the closest alley. The adrenaline is not enough. Your leg gives out again the moment you try to put weight on it, though you try your best to recover and push onwards regardless. Persistence isn't something you lack, but your options are running low. A second arrow finds its way into your shoulder blade, and with another pained gasp, you stumble forward, chin bashing hard against the stone pathway. Bitter iron stings your tongue, and you spit out a bit of blood. It almost seems to mock you from where it lands on the stone. All of this, just because of what's in your veins. Footsteps grow closer behind you, and a bow creaks as its string is drawn back yet again. "That's enough," says a more distant voice. The second knight, you presume. "They want (if: $gender is "f")[her](else-if: $gender is "m")[him](else-if: $gender is "nb")[them] alive." You close your eyes, breathing hard. Everything hurts. You never asked for this. Your head hangs low as hands grab your arms and haul you upright. [[Retry your escape.|Escape Start]] (link: "Play again from the beginning.")[(reload:)]

(if: $weapon is true)[You have no choice. Mustering all your willpower and praying adrenaline will be enough to stave off the throbbing pain in your leg, you drag yourself upright and draw your sword. You tell yourself this is just like training. You're good at this--you can handle them, even in your current state. The knight with the sword draws it, and you charge forward before the other can nock another arrow. The first knight intercepts you, and your blades clash against each other. She grits her teeth at the impact, not expecting your strength. Honestly, it's more than you expect, too. Alongside the pain, a strange energy surges through you. Being careful to keep the woman between you and the other knight so they can't get a clear shot, you bear down on her harder, and the blows you exchange slide in your favor. You shove her back hard enough that she stumbles, and then swing your sword towards the other's bow, disrupting their shot and sending their weapon splintering to the side. On the backswing, you crack the hilt of your sword against the side of their head, and they collapse next to their partner. Armor clashes in the distance, but it grows closer. It seems your fight was noticed. [[Hide.]] [[Make a run for it.]]](else:)[You have no choice. Mustering all your willpower and praying adrenaline will be enough to stave off the throbbing pain in your leg, you drag yourself upright and face off against the two knights. You reach for a sword but your hand finds nothing. Right... You never acquired a weapon. Hopelessness seizes your chest. Even so, you throw yourself at the knight with a sword, trying to throw her off balance long enough to steal the blade for yourself. She's ready for you, though, and doesn't have an issue grappling you in your wounded state. The other knight has another arrow pointed at your chest before you can get a chance to reverse your positions. You writhe in the first one's grip, baring teeth that are starting to look more like fangs. Deep down, you know it's over. Your leg throbs. Your arm aches. Everything is going wrong and you don't know what else to do. You lower your head as the knights secure your arms back. [[Retry your escape.|Escape Start]] (link: "Play again from the beginning.")[(reload:)]]

There's no way you can outrun them all. You stumble into the closest alley and tear back a tarp strewn over a few barrels. It's a tight squeeze, but you manage to slot yourself in between two and pull the tarp back over them. The clashing armor grows closer. Voices join in, and then footsteps take off in a few different directions. Some pass by in front of you, but they don't stop to check the barrels. Glancing at your arm, you realize the scales have spread past the confines of the fabric. Glittering, red bumps peek out from close to your elbow, now. Grimacing, you take the fabric off of your arm and wrap it around your leg instead. A soft sigh escapes you, and you lean your head back until it thumps lightly against the building behind you. Maybe you'll stay here and rest for a bit. Once a solid hour has passed without any additional sounds, you crawl out from behind the barrels, leg trembling as you put weight on it. Climbing in this state might be a bad idea, but it's the only one you have. You return to the wall and slowly make your way back up, relying more on your hands and trying to avoid putting too much weight on your injured leg. It takes forever, but the sun has started going down, and nobody notices your ascent. You reach the top without being stopped. Getting down will be its own challenge, but you're confident you can manage it and slip off into the woods without detection--it seems the guards are off covering other areas. [[Retry your escape.|Escape Start]] (link: "Play again from the beginning.")[(reload:)]

Sheathing your sword, you rush away from the scene. A two-on-one fight wasn't impossible, but if more knights joined the fray, you know you wouldn't stand a chance. Not with a wounded leg. Said leg makes it difficult to run. It tries to give out on you, but you recover and push onwards. It's not fast enough. You glance back. The woman is already sitting back up behind you, one hand gripping her shoulder and the other pointing in your direction. Another group of knights, fresh and battle-ready, round the corner and spot you immediately. They run towards you at a speed you can't hope to match, but you try to flee anyway. You don't know why you bother. Even if you got away, you wouldn't be able to climb the wall like this, and the security at the city gate would be locked down at this point. Despair sinks in your stomach like a rock as the knights overtake you, one tackling you to the ground. Your chin bashes hard against the stone pathway. Bitter iron stings your tongue, and you spit out a bit of blood. It almost seems to mock you from where it lands on the stone. All of this, just because of what's in your veins. Footsteps grow closer behind you, and the sound of metal-on-metal fills your ears as swords are unsheathed and leveled at your head. You close your eyes, breathing hard. Everything hurts. You never asked for this. Your head hangs low as hands grab your arms and haul you upright. [[Retry your escape.|Escape Start]] (link: "Play again from the beginning.")[(reload:)]

It's worth the risk. If she's suspicious of you, you can just run off before she gets the chance to act on it. That's what you tell yourself as you approach her. She looks up as you do, sliding the last crate onto the back of her caravan. "Can I help you?" she asks. "I was hoping you might give me a ride out of the city, actually," you reply. "What, for free?" You blink, then shake your head and hold your hands up in a placating manner. "Oh, no, no, of course not. I can give you, uh..." (if: $weapon is true and $food is true)[[[Offer weapon.|Offer weapon.]] [[Offer food.|Offer food.]]](else-if: $weapon is true)[[[Offer weapon.|Offer weapon.]]](else-if: $food is true)[[[Offer food.|Offer food.]]](else-if: $weapon is false and $food is false)[[[Offer physical labor.|Offer gold.]]]

Involving other people sounds like a risk you aren't willing to take. You approach the gate by yourself and hope they aren't already aware of the situation back at the castle. "Afternoon," calls the guard as you get close. He scribbles something on a notepad as the cart in front of you pulls away, then walks up to meet you. "Whatcha headin' out for?" [[Hunting trip.]] [[Visiting family.]]

(if: $weapon is true)[The guard's eyes drop to your sword, and he nods slowly. "Just with that? By yourself? Color me impressed." You laugh nervously, rubbing the back of your head. "Nothing special, really. No beasts, just small game." The guard shrugs. "Well, whether you hunt 'em or not, the beasts are still out there. Be careful, yeah?" You nod and thank him before passing by just as you hear the clattering of horse hooves and armor clashing against itself behind you. Seems you got out just in time. You break into a light jog--not fast enough to look panicked, but enough to put some extra distance between you and the guards in case he makes the connection right away. The forest isn't far. Even if they suspect you, you can lose them in there. Weight lifts off your shoulders with each step. [[Retry your escape.|Escape Start]] (link: "Play again from the beginning.")[(reload:)]](else:)[Your answer catches the knight off-guard. He squints at you, eyeing you up and down. "Hunting, huh? With... what equipment, exactly?" You glance down at yourself. Oh, right. You don't even have a weapon on you. "I, uh... I make traps, actually. Using materials I gather out in the woods." "Really?" he asks, curiosity lighting up in his eyes. "How do those work? What do you catch with 'em?" He sounds more earnest than suspicious at this point, and normally you'd be more than happy to engage in small talk, but this time, your heart hammers in your throat as you piece together made-up answers and silky lies. You're still talking to him when the clattering of horse hooves and the clashing of armor thudding against itself meets your ears, and your blood runs cold. Four mounted knights swing into view, trotting right up to the guard with whom you're speaking. You can assume what they're here to report. [[Take off runnning.|Take off running.]]]

The guard nods slowly, though he looks a bit concerned. "On foot? Packed that light? Next town over's pretty far away. Seems like a long trek to be makin' like that." "They're farmers, actually," you reply, thinking fast. "I don't have to go all the way to the next city." The knight's brow loosens, and his nod grows more confident. "Ah, got it, got it. Alright, then. Hope they're well. Be safe out there." You thank him and press onwards just as you hear the clattering of horse hooves and armor clashing against itself behind you. Seems you got out just in time. You break into a light jog--not fast enough to look panicked, but enough to put some extra distance between you and the guards in case he makes the connection right away. The forest isn't far. Even if they suspect you, you can lose them in there. Weight lifts off your shoulders with each step. [[Retry your escape.|Escape Start]] (link: "Play again from the beginning.")[(reload:)]

"...some food?" The merchant raises an eyebrow as you present your sack of food. She stares at you for a long moment, then casts a very pointed look at her own caravan, stocked with crates of fruits and vegetables. "I'm not exactly in the market for food." Your shoulders slump. She purses her lips and glances between you and her cart. "Okay, listen," she says, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I have the space, so... Okay. Keep your food. Help me unload when we get to the next city, and I'll take you anyway." Well, going to another city was not in your plans, but maybe you can sneak off in between here and there. [[Get into the caravan.]]

(if: $new is true)["How about this blade?" you suggest, unsheathing the fine sword you purchased earlier. The merchant gives a curious, interested hum. "I'm not usually a weapons gal, but this does look well-made. I'm sure I could sell it." "So?" You offer it to her hilt-first. She takes it. "Alright. I have the extra space, so I guess there's no other reason to say no. Hop in. We'll head out shortly."](else:)["I'd be willing to part with this sword," you say, unsheathing your less-than-impressive blade. The merchant blinks at you. "I'm gonna be honest with you, that looks only a little bit better than a standard kitchen knife." You laugh, albeit a bit nervously. "It gets the job done." The merchant glances between you and her cart. "Okay, listen. I have the space. Keep the sword. Help me unload when we get to the next city, and I'll take you anyway." Well, going to another city was not in your plans, but maybe you can sneak off in between here and there.] [[Get into the caravan.]]

You climb into the back of the caravan and find a place amongst the crates and sacks. Within a few minutes, the merchant gets up at the front and sets her horses in motion. The cart rolls up to the city gate and pauses by the guards. With a deep breath, tuck your bandaged arm under the other and try to look natural and unbothered as the knights sweep the cart. Evidently, the message hasn't reached this far yet. They check the goods and supplies, but don't pay much attention to either you or the merchant. You're waved on within minutes and safely on the road, the city growing smaller behind you with each passing moment. You let out a relieved sigh. That wasn't so bad, all things considered. [[Retry your escape.|Escape Start]] (link: "Play again from the beginning.")[(reload:)]

The blacksmith nods, sets her hammer down, and turns to go inside. "I think we can manage that," she says, waving you in after her. You follow, and once inside the small building, you see a few swords scattered all around. A few lay on tables or workbenches, while others are hung up on the walls. "Some of these are made to order or on hold," the blacksmith says, "but you've got a few options." She unsheathes a sword from her own hip and gives it an experimental slice through the air. "I've just finished sharpening this one," she says. "It's nothing special, but it's cheap and it should get most jobs done just fine." She points with the sword towards another, one of the ones hanging on the wall. You cross the room to get a closer look. It's a bit lighter, with a sheen unlike the first. "That one is a grade above," the blacksmith continues. "It'll cost you more, but it'll also last longer, even if it's worked harder." [[Choose the new sword.]] [[Go with the basic sword.]]

(set: $new to true)\ "I'll take this one," you say, running your fingers lightly down the blade of the fine, silver sword. The blacksmith nods and fetches its sheath. The blade fits snugly inside, and she hands it over to you once you count out the right amount of gold. You attach the sheath to your hip, thank the blacksmith, and head back outside. So far, so good. [[Look for food to buy.]]

"I'll go with that one," you say, nodding to the simple iron sword in her grasp. The blacksmith nods and sheaths it at her own hip, before undoing the straps and passing it over to you. You take a few moments to count out the right amount of gold and drop it into her waiting, open hand. Afterwards, you attach the sheath to your hip, thank the blacksmith, and head back outside. So far, so good. [[Look for food to buy.]]

It would look more suspicious to ignore the sound, and you have to know whether or not it's about you. Thus, you pick your way towards the growing crowd, each step increasing your anxiety. The dread gets much worse as you round the corner and spot who's helming the announcement--none other than Ilikoth, head of enchantments and weaponry for the knights... and exactly who Weynet had cautioned against seeking help from. "An individual with draconic lineage has been identified for the first time in generations," he announces, and all at once your world tilts. You bite down the panicked breath that threatens to escape you and dart into an alley, bracing yourself against a wall as Ilikoth continues speaking. Did Weynet lie to you? Why would he tell you to run in the first place if he was going to tell Ilikoth anyway? "A traitor within the castle grounds tried to keep this hidden from us, and has since been dealt with accordingly." Ilikoth sweeps a narrowed gaze over the crowd. "Any who attempt to follow in his footsteps will meet a similar fate." Once more, the world spins. //Oh.// Did Ilikoth overhear your conversation with Weynet? Was he caught and punished for letting you go? Nausea twists in your stomach like gnarled tree roots. Surely it's a bluff. Surely they wouldn't turn on him so fast, after all he's done for the knights. "Conversely, anyone who turns (if: $gender is "f")[her](else-if: $gender is "m")[him](else-if: $gender is "nb")[them] in or offers any information about (if: $gender is "f")[her](else-if: $gender is "m")[his](else-if: $gender is "nb")[their] whereabouts will be rewarded handsomely." Ilikoth starts to release a vague description of you, and your panic increases tenfold. You can't stay here. There are too many people. You'll have to make do with whatever supplies you've managed to find. You scramble further into the alley with shaking hands. [[Head to the city gate.]] [[Check the perimeter of the city wall.]]

It's not worth the risk. You retrace your steps back up the wall, but as you near the top, voices pick up, and you notice a light shining overhead that wasn't there before. You freeze in place, pressed tightly against the wall, its crest mere inches from your head. The light doesn't go away. A new guard must have been posted there. You're stuck. Your foot brushes along the wall in search of a new path from here, but it slips against the rock and gives off a loud scraping sound. The voices above pause, and then three heads peer over the edge, looking down at you. Well, that's just great. To their credit, they react rather quickly to a person hanging on the edge of the wall. Hands grab your shoulders and the back of your shirt and haul you up until you collapse on the top of the wall with a huff. Three swords are leveled at your throat before you can do anything else. You close your eyes, breathing hard, and let your head fall back against the ground with a soft thump. There's nothing else to be done with so many blades mere inches from ending your life. [[Retry your escape.|Escape Start]] (link: "Play again from the beginning.")[(reload:)]

You should be fine from this height, right? If you go back up, you risk running into guards. With a deep breath, you lower yourself as much as possible, then push off of the wall in the hopes of making it to the trees behind you. In the moment that weightlessness takes you, you doubt your decision. Fear envelops you just like the cold air that whooshes around your form, but it lasts for only a moment. Soon enough, you're crashing through tree branches. Stinging pain pierces through your entire body as the branches scratch and poke your skin, but when you drop onto the ground with a thump, you're breathing and conscious. You sit up, hand going to your head as it aches from the movement. A little worse for wear, maybe, but you did it. You're out. [[Retry your escape.|Escape Start]] (link: "Play again from the beginning.")[(reload:)]

You fish around in your pockets and perk up when you realize you still have gold. "I can pay you. I'm not going anywhere specific, I'd just appreciate a lift." The merchant gives you an appraising look, which shifts to one closer to approval as you extend a few coins towards her. "Alright, fine," she says, swiping the coins from your hand and pocketing them. "Climb on in, I guess. I'm just about ready to head out." [[Get into the caravan.]]

Knowing you'll need every second you can get, you tear away from the guards and peel out of the city with as much speed as you can manage. The gate guard calls after you, confusion and surprise mashed together on his face. The four mounted knights watch you go for a moment, then exchange a look and begin their pursuit. They're on horses. You don't stand a chance. Indeed, they're on you way before you can reach the forest in the distance. Two of them surge ahead of you and circle back, swords at the ready, while the other two bring up the rear, presumably just as ready to strike. You slow to a halt and lean forward, planting your hands on your knees and sucking in deep gasps of air. It was a valiant effort on your part, but horses have you beat in terms of speed. You lower your head and try to calm the racing of your heart, but it only seems to get worse as one of the knights dismounts and secures your arms back. You know what awaits you back in the city. [[Retry your escape.|Escape Start]] (link: "Play again from the beginning.")[(reload:)]

Weynet hops up and goes to greet the others as they stream back into the courtyard, leaving you to dispose of the two (now empty) sacks. You brush off your shirt to dislodge a few breadcrumbs and glance over at the rest of the group. Weynet's smile is as warm as ever as he claps a few knights-to-be on their shoulders, welcoming them back to the courtyard as though lunch had been a hard-fought, courageous battle for each of them. [[Ask Weynet if you can leave.]] [[Wait and try to slip out unnoticed.]]

Pivoting away from the direction of the courtyard, you head down a different hallway, making sure to take a roundabout route that (hopefully) wouldn't take you straight back to Ilikoth. It doesn't, and your shoulders relax as the front entrance comes into view. As you approach it, you come to a halt, eyes focusing on the gate ahead of you. The same guard from yesterday stands by the gate, yawning into their hand. [[Try to sneak past.]] (if: $suspicion > 6)[[[Walk straight out.|Get stopped.]]](else:)[[[Walk straight out.|Walk straight out.]]]

Not wanting to deal with conversing with the guard or alerting them to your departure, you head down the side of the castle and go for the wall as opposed to the gate. There's a section of wall a few meters away from the guard that's covered in vines and thick foliage. You might be able to scale it and get past undetected that way. You might be seen by the guard, but your only alternative is to walk past the guard anyway. [[Climb the wall.]] (if: $suspicion > 6)[[[Go through the front gate.|Get stopped.]]](else:)[[[Go through the front gate.|Walk straight out.]]]

You walk up to the gate and, as expected, the guard notices your approach. They offer you a wave at first, then squint upon realizing it's you. "Leaving early again?" they ask. "Trying to quit at the very end?" [[Ignore them and leave.]] [[Explain yourself.]]

Weynet has shown you nothing but understanding over the last few days. You walk over to him as everyone else settles back in after lunch. "Uh, Weynet?" "Yeah?" He turns to you. "What's up?" You twist your hands together in front of you, fingers picking at each other as you lift your gaze to meet his. "The truth is, my arm is still giving me a really tough time." It's not a complete lie, and the embarrassment at wanting to bail on training--even if it's more about your safety and less about the pain--makes you avert your eyes as you ask, "Is it alright if I head home for the day?" "Hey, don't look like that," Weynet says, bumping a supportive fist against your shoulder. "Listen to me. If a knight fights until they collapse, somebody else has to go and drag them to safety, which puts even more people in danger." You glance back to him, tilting your head. "What I mean is, a smart knight knows when to retreat," Weynet says. "Rest doesn't make us weak. It keeps us strong." Slowly, you begin to nod. "Yeah. I understand." "So don't worry about it. No shame in needing to heal." Weynet gestures towards the gate. "You need to focus on being in good shape for your assessment, too, after all." You nod with more certainty. "You're right. Thanks, Weynet." The level of sincerity in your voice takes him aback, but he recovers swiftly, lifting one shoulder in a nonchalant shrug. "I know you well enough to know you're not just trying to skip. Take care of your arm, okay? Be careful with it." His expression sobers suddenly, and with as much sincerity as you offered him moments ago, he repeats himself: "Be careful." You hold his gaze for a moment more, searching, before nodding once again and turning away to leave the courtyard. You don't come across anyone else in the hall as you make your way to the front entrance. As you approach it, you come to a halt, eyes focusing on the final gate ahead of you. The same guard from yesterday stands by the gate, yawning into their hand. [[Try to sneak past.]] (if: $suspicion > 6)[[[Walk straight out.|Get stopped.]]](else:)[[[Walk straight out.|Walk straight out.]]]

While the others gather around Weynet to listen to his next instructions, you linger in the back of the group and occasionally inch a bit further away from them, until you've crossed the remainder of the courtyard. A pile of wooden training weapons rests on the ground a few feet from you, while the courtyard gate is a mere arm's length away. You glance over your shoulder as you near the gate to see if anyone notices you, and sure enough, you make eye contact with Weynet. He hasn't stopped talking to the others, but he lifts an eyebrow at you. [[Leave anyway.]] [[Pretend to choose a weapon.]]

(set: $suspicion to it+1)\ You look away and push through the gate without hesitation, and make it back to the hall without being stopped. Your success doesn't last long, however. "$name!" You wince and glance back to see Weynet jogging after you. It doesn't surprise you since he watched you leave, but some part of you had hoped he'd just let you go. No such luck, it seems. "Where are you going?" Weynet stops in front of you and crosses his arms loosely over his chest. He doesn't sound accusatory, but curious. "We just started another drill." [[Apologize and return to the courtyard with him.]] [[Tell him you feel unwell.]]

You pivot away from the gate and dip down to snatch a wooden sword from the ground. As you stand back up and look at the others, you realize they're pairing up with training dummies--without weapons. And Weynet is walking towards you. It won't help your case to look panicked, so you stand firm as he reaches you. "Were you listening?" he asks. "We're, uh, gonna do some hand-to-hand for a bit." "Oh." You look down at the sword in your hands, then throw it back down onto the pile. "I just thought... that one was a bit too close to the gate. Didn't want anyone to trip over it." "...Thanks," Weynet replies after a moment. "Glad to see you looking out for everybody like that." You nod. He waits. Neither of you move, and you almost decide to abandon your goal of leaving and start punching a training dummy, but then another trainee calls out for guidance and Weynet jolts. His eyes linger on you for a few more seconds, and you hate the mixture of concern and suspicion that swim within them, but then he calls, "Be right there!" and goes to aid the other trainee. You let out a breath. [[Leave while he's distracted.]]

With Weynet occupied by another trainee, you turn back around and slip past the gate. Hopefully they'll buy you enough time for you to make it out before Weynet notices your absence. It seems they have, for the distance between you and the courtyard grows without anyone calling after you. You don't come across anyone else in the hall, either, as you make your way to the front entrance. As you approach it, you come to a halt, eyes focusing on the final gate ahead of you. The same guard from yesterday stands by the gate, yawning into their hand. [[Try to sneak past.]] (if: $suspicion > 6)[[[Walk straight out.|Get stopped.]]](else:)[[[Walk straight out.|Walk straight out.]]]

"Sorry," you say, scrambling to come up with a better reason to have stepped out. "I thought I heard someone call me." Weynet lifts an unconvinced brow. "Ilikoth, I think," you add, glancing down the hall as if checking for his presence one more time. "I'm pretty sure he's occupied for the rest of the day," Weynet replies with a slow shrug. "He'll come back out to the courtyard if he needs somebody." "Yeah." You rub the back of your head, sheepish. "You're right." Weynet nods, though he seems distracted, giving you another onceover like he wants to say something else. He doesn't, though, and instead gives you a gentle nudge back towards the courtyard. He falls in beside you as you walk, and soon enough you're back alongside your fellow trainees. And then, perhaps against your better judgment, you resume your training. Weynet has you all execute some hand-to-hand combat against training dummies, so as to avoid any injuries right before the assessment, and you're grateful for it for a number of reasons. It's easy to avoid using your scaled arm too much, and you needn't worry about it getting struck when your opponent is a lifeless sack of hay. The day is rounded out with more swordplay ("Just to keep you sharp," says Weynet. "No pun intended.") and while it includes a few close calls, you manage to keep your arm from taking any direct hits. You think it might be ready to fall off by the time you're done anyway--but the other trainees seem to be faring about as well after a long day of physical activity. Just as the sun begins to dip in the sky and cast everything in an orange hue, Weynet once again claps his hands together and calls everyone over to him. [[Go hear what he has to say.]]

You twist your hands together in front of you, fingers picking at each other as you lift your gaze to meet his. "The truth is, my arm is still giving me a really tough time." It's not a complete lie, and the embarrassment at wanting to bail on training--even if it's more about your safety and less about the pain--makes you avert your eyes as you ask, "Is it alright if I head home for the day?" "Hey, don't look like that," Weynet says, bumping a supportive fist against your shoulder. "Listen to me. If a knight fights until they collapse, somebody else has to go and drag them to safety, which puts even more people in danger." You glance back to him, tilting your head. "What I mean is, a smart knight knows when to retreat," Weynet says. "Rest doesn't make us weak. It keeps us strong." Slowly, you begin to nod. "Yeah. I understand." "So don't worry about it. No shame in needing to heal." Weynet gestures down the hall. "You need to focus on being in good shape for your assessment, too, after all." You nod with more certainty. "You're right. Thanks, Weynet." The level of sincerity in your voice takes him aback, but he recovers swiftly, lifting one shoulder in a nonchalant shrug. "I know you well enough to know you're not just trying to skip. Take care of your arm, okay? Be careful with it." His expression sobers suddenly, and with as much sincerity as you offered him moments ago, he repeats himself: "Be careful." You hold his gaze for a moment more, searching, before nodding once again and turning away and heading down the hall. Weynet's footsteps pick up a moment later, traveling away from you. You don't come across anyone else in the hall as you make your way to the front entrance. As you approach it, you come to a halt, eyes focusing on the final gate ahead of you. The same guard from yesterday stands by the gate, yawning into their hand. [[Try to sneak past.]] (if: $suspicion > 6)[[[Walk straight out.|Get stopped.]]](else:)[[[Walk straight out.|Walk straight out.]]]

For a moment, the guard looks as though they want to argue and send you to Ilikoth, but then they shrug. "Well, he didn't mention it being urgent. Go on, then, and rest up. I'm sure he'd rather have you at full strength, anyway. You gotta stop gettin' knocked down like this." You offer a nervous laugh and shrug. "Happens to the best of us at least sometimes, I suppose." The guard grunts, and you think you hear them mumble something about not missing a single day of work for the last sixteen years as you pass them and head down the walkway. At least you didn't get forced to go see Ilikoth. Who knows what he wants to talk about? Or, more likely, what he wants to do to you? It's a question for another day, thankfully. [[Go home.]]

(if: $confrontation is true)[You walk up to the gate and, as expected, the guard notices your approach. They offer you a wave at first, then squint upon realizing it's you. "Hey, you're $name, right?" they say, holding up a hand to keep you from passing. "You left early yesterday, too." "...I did," you confirm after a brief hesitation. "Ilikoth came out and mentioned you. Told me he wanted to talk to you 'bout something, and to send you his way if I saw you." Your heart drops to your stomach. Ilikoth? Again? You came straight here after he confronted you--there's no way he had enough time to make it out and warn the guard. In that case... Your heart sinks even lower. He must've had his suspicions even before lunch. You weren't imagining it, then. You're not sure if it's good to know for sure or terrifying. You're certainly not interested in finding out today. He's the one you're the most worried about discovering your scales. [["I'll find him first thing tomorrow morning."]]](else:)[You walk up to the gate and, as expected, the guard notices your approach. They offer you a wave at first, then squint upon realizing it's you. "Hey, you're $name, right?" they say, holding up a hand to keep you from passing. "You left early yesterday, too." "...I did," you confirm after a brief hesitation. "Ilikoth came out and mentioned you. Told me he wanted to talk to you 'bout something, and to send you his way if I saw you." Your heart sinks. Of course he did. He'd been acting weird ever since this morning--you're not sure if you're glad to know for sure that you weren't just imagining it, or if you're more frightened of him now than ever. Either way, you're certainly not interested in finding out what he wants from you today. He's the one you're the most worried about discovering your scales. [["I'll find him first thing tomorrow morning."]]]

Each step you take away from the castle fills you with a bit more relief. The closer you get to home, however, the more that relief begins to warp into dread. This was just one day, and not even a full one, at that. If the scales don't disappear--worse yet, if they keep spreading until you can no longer conceal them--what will you do? All that matters to you is passing your assessment and becoming a knight. Your determination has never wavered, even now. You'll just need to be more careful about covering up until your training is complete. By then, surely you'll have it under control. At the very least, you're ready to give it your best shot. Whatever happens, you know you can take it. You just need another night to prepare better. [[Retry your training day.|Training Start]] (link: "Play again from the beginning.")[(reload:)]

As you reach the base of the wall, you wonder if this is your best option to try in broad daylight. You glance towards the gate, but you're too close to the wall to get a clear glimpse of the guard. Well, if you can't see them, maybe they can't see you, either. Turning back to the wall, you grab onto the thickest vines you can find and give them an experimental tug. They feel pretty solid and firm, and the fact that they didn't snap off at the slightest pull is encouraging. With that, you pull yourself up onto the plants, and hang there for a moment to make sure they can really hold your weight. They still don't break, so you begin to inch your way upwards, taking your time to find strong sections of vine to grasp. The leaves rustle as you climb, but at this distance from the gate, you feel confident the noise won't reach the guard. The castle wall isn't nearly as impressive as the city wall, which also helps your efforts. You only have to climb up about fifteen feet before you've reached its peak, and unlike the city wall, it isn't thick enough for a walkway on top, so you don't have to worry about additional guards being posted above you. You perch on top for a moment, keeping yourself as low as you can, then lower yourself down on the other side. The vines are sparser here, but you're able to get low enough that you can drop down without hurting your ankles. You brush yourself off and turn away from the wall. That went pretty smoothly! [[Go home.]]

Without replying, you walk past. Assuming they hit a nerve, the guard taunts you again. "Fine, then. The royal guard has no place for quitters, anyway. You shouldn't get knocked down so easily!" You do your best to ignore the guard's words. Ordinarily, you might be more inclined to agree, but you'd rather live to serve the royal guard than get taken out before you even get the chance. [[Go home.]]

(if: $guard is true)["Still not feeling my best, I'm afraid," you reply. "//Still//?" they echo. "That's a shame. A sturdy knight like you oughta be able to bounce back quicker than that." The words sting, just a little, but you know it's not as simple as they make it out to be. "Maybe so," you say. "Hopefully one more night's rest will get me back on my feet." The words sound hollow, even to you, but you can at least hope tomorrow won't be worse than today. [[Go home.]]](else:)["Not feeling my best, I'm afraid," you reply. The guard's face scrunches up with sympathy. "That's too bad. Take it easy." You nod and start to walk past, but then they put a hand on your shoulder, stopping you, and fix you with a suspicious stare. For a moment, your heart seizes in your chest. What happened? Do they know? "Take it easy," they repeat, "//if// you ain't lying. Don't be making a habit of leaving early like this, y'hear?" Oh. You relax a little and nod. "Don't worry. I won't." The guard releases you, and you resume walking. [[Go home.]]]